A/N: This story has been previously published in Russian, and though we edit our translation, there still might be some mistakes. What you need to know before you start reading, is that we are big musical nerds, so a lot of characters are based on different Phantom, Christine and Raoul performers. Hope they are recognizable!
Edited by angelofmusic9977 and daaeroses. Thank you so much!
The prologue and the first chapter are a bit slow, but it's worth the waiting :) Enjoy and PLEASE review!
The morning mist was so thick, that it made the bridge visible for only ten steps ahead. A strange phenomenon in Paris, especially in September. But it was a rainy year, and the morning was quite chilly, which was more common for November. It seemed that this winter could be long.
Five o'clock in the morning, and not a living soul on the streets. Within an hour, the usual pandemonium, so natural for the city center, will be spread over here like a wind. Carriages, people hastily heading to their business, street vendors … why, oh why does it always have to happen in this quarter?
They had to do everything quickly to avoid panic among people. There were a dozen police officers standing around, willing to stop whoever tried to pass on the Scribe street.
It wasn't the water that made pavement so slippery that day.
It still remained a mystery, what a madman could have done violence like this… and was he really mad? The person who left the message for the police of Paris was well aware of his deeds.
Perhaps he even knew a lot about human anatomy. How else he could pump out all blood from the body, to the last drop?
"Inspector!" a young officer shouted. "Inspector Quaste! It's time to leave!"
A man in his fifties, with a deeply concentrated face and white whiskers, rose from his knees. His assistant was right; they wouldn't find any more clues, and the sun is rising.
It was better to wash the blood off as soon as possible.
The victim was lying in a few steps from the largest pool of blood. It seemed that the killer, after finishing his repulsive deeds, dragged the woman down the street, holding her by the throat and leaving a bloody plume behind. And then he dropped her.
The woman's body has already stiffened. She was killed about two o'clock in the morning, right in time for the guard change. She was found just an hour ago.
In morning light the blood stains, that lay on the skin, appeared bluish black, like ink. Another spot covered the hair.
As usually, blond. Another distinctive sign, if not to say, killer's signature. He only killed blondes so far. Any blonde, from the white-haired albinos to the owners of honey-like curls.
But the age was different. Two weeks ago they found a very young one, while this lady was already touched with aging. Her face wasn't beautiful at all.
The victim's occupation wasn't hard to guess. The elusive killer wielded only at night, and he rarely assaulted decent women.
If Quaste only could, he would have issued a decree under which the prostitutes were forbidden to seek customers in the Opera district at night. But that was beyond his power.
Inspector was tired of this case. It started about one and a half years ago. Sometimes murders stopped for a few months, but the culprit remained elusive. Quaste was the best in his department, which is why he was assigned to the investigation, but even he could not find any clues.
"Inspector?" the assistant called again.
"Yes, yes," Quaste answered, dryly.
The body was loaded on the stretcher now.
That is pointless, Quaste wanted to say. Physicians won't find anything, none of the evidence. But that was the part of the protocol.
"He has been waiting for you," the young officer said.
Well, of course, Quaste thought, he always comes right in time.
The inspector turned. His assistant barely concealed his fear, his eyes pointing at the narrow passage between buildings.
There, in the dim light, was a bright spot; a white mask.
Quaste nodded slowly, as if saying something only two of them could know, and the mask disappeared into the darkness.
The sun finally rose, and the blood on the pavement became much brighter.